


Long Night

by Lilboppaloola



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Literally just plotless smut, Post Midnight, Smut, but it was an accident, i guess, now it's PWP basically, originally it would've been fluffy angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 09:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15627522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilboppaloola/pseuds/Lilboppaloola
Summary: Valkyrie didn't know how they'd got to this point, but she knew there was no turning away from it now.





	Long Night

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in the middle of the night just before I fell asleep and edited it in direct sunlight so bear with. I'm not a great writer but we're all so starved at this point that I don't think it even matters.

It was strange to have him here, in her bed. They were crossing a line and Valkyrie knew it. This was it: the tipping of the scales. Even though he made no move to touch her - just lay beside her with his eyeless gaze on her face - she acknowledged somewhere that this would be their breaking point. Everything changing in a moment, and she had been the one to push it.  
  
Valkyrie had a hold over him; it was unmistakable to anyone who saw the way he looked at her, like the world began and ended in the very space she occupied. Whatever she asked of him, he would comply. So when she had reached out, dragged her fingertips down his forearm as he retreated from the room and whispered for him to stay, please, just don't leave me alone tonight, Skulduggery...  
He hadn't - would never (could never?) - refuse her.  
  
Valkyrie knew she was using him and part of her hated herself for it. But at the same time another part, the quiet, creeping voice in her mind, wondered if it was so terrible to use somebody who so clearly wanted to be used.  
  
Yes, Valkyrie decided firmly. It was terrible.  
Not that it stopped her from reaching for his skeletal hand in the darkness, or from twining her long fingers through the gaps in his, breathing in the silence of the room. Nor from shuffling closer in the coolness of the sheets and draping a limber leg over his angular hip. He held her there for a moment, expression guarded.  
  
It was funny. The guilt in her chest did nothing to stop Valkyrie running her fingertips over the hard line of his jaw, and finally she surrendered herself to the sensation of his teeth grazing her neck.  
  
He ached for her just as she needed him to breathe, Valkyrie realised as he flipped them both over on the mattress, landing on top of her. All the while, he attacked her neck and the hollow of her throat with what bordered on desperation.  
  
The moans he drew from her lips were breathy and Valkyrie would find the heart to be embarrassed later, after. But not now. Not while his hands traced lines down the length of her body, suddenly slow. He was savouring every curve of her, all the way down to her hips where his insistent fingers twisted into the elastic waistband of the underwear she slept in.  
  
There was the most minute of hesitations that Valkyrie just could not allow. She pulled his head down to crash their mouths together in a kiss. It was mistimed, and it would have been awkward in any other time or place. As it were, she couldn't care less how messy it seemed because of the inescapable, undeniable *heat* of it overwhelming them.  
  
Neither of them would last long, she knew. And neither of them could bring themself to worry.  
  
In the moment, all that mattered was his hands on her body, the insistence of her lips against his teeth, and the way he moved against her.  
  
There was nothing else. No pain, no guilt, no fear. All of it was lost in the way her arms wrapped tight around his back to brush the curve of his spine, pulling his further against her, closer, closer, please never let this end. And then Valkyrie was crying out, shuddering underneath him as he kissed carefully across her chest. He slipped his hands slowly from between her thighs and she gasped.  
  
The only thing that felt real any more was the weight of him pressing down on her and the dull ache from where the bones of his fingers had squeezed her so tightly. And still he was unwilling to let her go just yet.  
  
Good. Valkyrie barely registered the thought before she pulled him impossibly closer, her face in the hollow of his neck, breathing him in.  
  
It was a game no one wanted to win; the game of who would let go first. Letting go would leave room for questions to slip into the gaps between them. Doubt would force its way in, alongside all the words they still left unspoken.   
Valkyrie refused to let go, and they lay together until the sun rose.


End file.
